


Worth the Wait

by neighborhoodninja



Series: Challenge Accepted [1]
Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neighborhoodninja/pseuds/neighborhoodninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael comes down with god-knows-what, and Ryan makes a deal with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this instead of whatever else I should be doing.

Michael watches Ryan dance around the kitchen to the beat of Six Foot Seven Foot, a glass of orange juice in one hand and some sort of nourishment in the other.

"Ry…" Michael groans from where he's curled up on the couch with a stuffy nose,a cough, a murderous headache, and pretty much everything else that screams that he's sick as all fuck.

"Mm?" Ryan sings, stacking the soup he just made onto a tray.

"…never mind." Michael mumbles, about to go back to sleep, but hen Ryan bounds into the room, somersaulting onto the couch, the full 200 pounds of him crashing into Michael's stomach. "BLARGH! OH. MY. GOD. I'm sick, and yet you…you…" Michael screeches, attempting to throw him off as Ryan starts to settle in, crushing Michael against his body.

"Oh, I know that. I just loooove annoying you." Ryan says sweetly, turning the TV on and immediately grabbing Michael's arm in excitement. "Ooh! Look! Saving Private Ryan's on!"

Michael groans and pushes Ryan's curly head to one side so he can, actually, like, see what's happening.

They make it through the last half, Michael half-heartedly trying to keep his lunch down, both of them bursting into tears and clutching at each other like fangirls at the end.

"My…feels…Tom Hanks, oh my god...This is worse than the time we did that Notebook-Million Dollar Baby-My Sister's Keeper-P.S. I Love You marathon with Cullen." Michael gasps out, twisting up a corner of Ryan's shirt and wiping at his eyes with it.

"Comfort me, darling." Ryan says into Michael's neck, pretty happily for a guy who's just gotten through Saving Private Ryan, as he climbs on top of him for some reason.

Michael raises an eyebrow as Ryan starts to tug on his shirt. "Um, I don't think you want to try anything like that while i'm infected."

Ryan's eyes widen, like he's just realized this, and he gingerly drops the hem of Michael's shirt back down. "Ah..heh…well, I'll be, um, around. Have fun lying there. Take care of yourself for me." Michael snorts. "No, seriously!" 

Michael can tell that Ryan's (self-proclaimed) "motherly instincts" are getting the better of him, and Ryan lays a hand on his forehead. "MP, you feel awful. Lemme get a thermometer. Stay."

Michael can't help laughing, because, like he's going to go anywhere else, as he hears Ryan rummaging around in the bathroom. He emerges with a scary-looking contraption that Michael assumes Ryan's going to try to put under his tongue.

"Uh. No, thank you." He protests as Ryan takes his jaw in his hand.

"It's fine, dork, relax." Ryan coaxes and Michael rolls his eyes, letting him slip it into his mouth. He pulls it out five minutes later.

Ryan winces when he sees Michael's temperature. "You're…100.5." He runs his fingers through Michael's hair, looking worried for real. Michael just has to have fun with this.

"Ryan?" He whispers, making his already huge brown eyes huger and looking up at Ryan in the way he knows Ryan just can't handle. "Ryan, am I going to die?" He asks softly, letting his eyes drop and his hand trail down Ryan's arm.

Ryan just loses it inside.

"Fuck it, fuck you, you fuckin' fuck- " HE grinds out as he leans down and tangles a hand in Michael's hair, kissing him roughly. Michael turns his head to the side and keeps his mouth firmly closed, giggling as he sees Ryan's infuriated expression.

"YOU." He growls.

Michael laughs and takes the thermometer. For some reason it's glittery blue and has Ariel and Flounder on it. He presses a flashing button on the side and "Part of Your World" blasts out at him.

"Where did you even find this?"

"Well, to tell the truth, at CVS. But I was looking for the Wall-E one in the first place. But then there was this one, and there was a Toy Story one, and a Lilo and Stitch, and I was just like, fuck this, Michael's a mermaid, so Imma get him a mermaid thermometer."

This speech is so incredibly stupid, so incredibly Ryan, that Michael wishes he'd recorded it. Oh well. He tugs Ryan down and wraps his arms around his neck. Ryan shifts so that he's supporting himself on his elbows, and Michael knees him lightly so that he doesn't get in his face. Can't let this go too far now.

"Tell you what," he murmurs in Ryan's ear, letting his lips brush against it. Ryan nods, making dome sort of happy noise, dipping his head down and kissing across Michael's jaw. Michael gives up trying to keep him away.

"When I- " Michael's cut off as Ryan sucks hard on his neck, but he takes a breath and continues, "When I get better, I might just let you fuck me."

There's a moment of silence, then Ryan's mouth drops open.

"Really?!" Michael snickers as Ryan claps his hands together and literally bounces up and down. "JEAH!"

"Yup. So, I would let me sleep, if I were you." Michael sneezes at the end to prove his point.

"Ugh. Will do." Ryan clambers off of him and sits on the floor, leaning back onto his legs. "Sleep! I wanna fuck!"

The simple request drives Michael over the edge completely, and he kicks Ryan's head sorta gently with his foot. 

"If I didn't bribe you, would you have left me alone anyway?"

"Um…hell no." Ryan laughs evilly and is rewarded with a pillow launched into his face.

"Asshole." Michael says affectionately, then has a coughing fit, so the reproachful effect, if there was even on in the first place, is lost.

 

Ryan manages to make it through the rest of the day without jumping Michael's bones, settling for leaping up at random intervals and feverishly kissing him, leaving them both breathless and reluctantly pushing each other away. Michael feels his cough and headache fade around two, but this only encourages more of Ryan's assaults.

After one particularly intense one, that has Michael shouting, "WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH?!" and throwing Ryan off him, Ryan clambers back onto the couch to rest a bony elbow on Michael's shoulder.

"I think…I think that you should plan to get better by tonight." Ryan suggests, and Michael yelps as he shifts his weight onto his elbow fully.

"Are you threatening me, Lochte?" He hisses as Ryan digs his elbow merrily into his rib.

"No." Ryan takes his arm off. "Because, you know…" he leans down and says against Michael's cheek, "I'd fuck you whether you were sick or not." Michael snorts and pinches Ryan's butt. 

"Are you really that much of an animal?"

"Dude, you've been lying around sneezing for, like, a week. I swear." Ryan shakes his head, like it's totally Michael's choice ego get sick and deny him sex.

Michael rolls his eyes. "What if my fever don't break by bedtime? Whatcha gonna do den, Lochtay?"

Ryan purses his lips. "Your fever will fucking break."

"But let's just say for a minute that it doesn't- "

But then Ryan's kissing him again, and well, maybe it actually will, maybe, Michael decides.

 

Ryan uses the next hour to throw together dinner (can of tomato sauce dumped over spaghetti). Michael manages to get his body over to the table, but he admits to himself that he really is feeling better, just not because of Ryan's "magical soup". He eats as slowly as possible, watching Ryan gradually explode.

Ryan finally just can't do this anymore, lunges forward, and mows down the rest of Michael's pasta in three bites. "Jeah. Done." He smirks triumphantly, sauce on the corner of his mouth.

"Nah…still hungry…" Michael starts, but then Ryan's lifting him off the ground and, disregarding his protests, sets him down on the edge of the counter in the bathroom.

"Open." Ryan commands, and sticks the Little Mermaid thermometer in as soon as Michael does.

Ryan holds it in there for a couple seconds, the yanks it out as soon as he hears the beep. He tentatively glances at the red temperature bar.

"You're…"

Michael waits.

"You're…"

"Jesus, just give me my fucking temperature!" Michael rips it out of Ryan's hand and they look together.

97.9.

"I'm…"

"You're…"

"97.9!" They yell at the same time, and hi-five each other.

Without wasting any more time on such trivial matters, Ryan scoops Michael up again and tosses him onto his bed, getting on top and starting to hastily rip his clothes off. Michael feels his shirt's first two buttons being undone, and decides to torture Ryan a little by taking a painfully long time to unbutton the last few. Ryan groans and pulls Michael up into his lap once he's done, coasting a hand over his torso.

"You are so…mean…" he gets out as Michael strips off his Gators tee and slowly runs his fingers down Ryan's abs, shifting his legs so that he's straddling Ryan's hips. He can feel Ryan's hard dick pressing against his thigh, but stays in place. He knows exactly how to drive Ryan insane, and starts grinding in small rocks against Ryan's hips, enough but not enough at the same time. Ryan moans in exasperation and sucks, frustrated, on Michael's neck.

"Calm down. I said you could fuck me. Go ahead." Michael slowly pulls down the zipper to Ryan's jeans, freeing his dick, and runs just the tips of his fingers down it. Ryan squirms, grits his teeth, and quickly rids Michael of his pants.

"Well, you're not making it very FUCKIN' EASY- " Ryan's voice sails up a few octaves as Michael shifts his hips down, hard and pressing against him. Michael cackles and tries to pull away, but Ryan's prepared. He holds Michael's hips in place as he wriggles both of them out of their underwear. 

"There! Happy?" Ryan says gruffly, then decides to just stop talking as Michael lies down, pulling Ryan on top of him. Michael grinds his hips up against him, his soft, hot skin making Ryan swear out loud, grip Michael's ass, and pull him up tightly against himself.

"Let's go, Lochte. Whoever makes the other one come first wins." Michael attempts to grin sadistically, but mutters out an "Oh, shitshitshit" as Ryan pushes a finger inside him and crooks it, hard. Whoa. Didn't count on that so soon. Ryan must be determined on getting his revenge for earlier.

"Challenge accepted." Ryan says and kisses across Michael's bare collarbone, feeling his rabbit-like pulse as he slides another finger inside. Michael gasps and Ryan feels his hips buck up against him of their own will. "You're gonna lose, you know." He rubs one finger in a slow, deliberate circle on Michael's prostate, and Michael cries out, almost thrashing against him.

"Will…not…" He chokes out, hissing as Ryan pulls his fingers out. "Jesus! Fuck!"

"That's right." Ryan admires his handiwork. Michael is a writhing mess pinned helplessly beneath him. He smiles and decides to make him wait a little.  
"Here's a question…" Ryan says thoughtfully, leaning down and kissing a trail along Michael's inner thigh.

"This is not fucking Jeopardy time, Ryan- "

"No…but…how would you fuck a mermaid, anyway? Actually, make that merman, in my case." Ryan sucks a hickey onto Michael's leg, making him moan and make a small, desperate noise in the back of his throat. The sound alone gets Ryan as hard as he'll ever be, and his fingernails scrape into Michael's hips.

"I don't know, dude…what the fuck are you DOING!" Michael gasps out the last word as, without warning, Ryan pushes into him. It feels so fucking amazing, that Michael wonders if it's a blessing or him to even be able to talk right now.

"Well, I'm not going to fuck you properly until you give me an answer." Ryan admonishes, mustering every last scrap of his control and pulling out, leaving Michael moaning and digging his heels into the sheets.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW- "

"Alright then, no happy time for you."

"Lochte." Michael yanks him down desperately, and just to keep him occupied, Ryan traces his lips over Michael's neck, leaving another hickey below his jawline. "Lochte, I have been sick for one whole fucking week, and if you do not satisfy my need to be fucked right now, so help me God, I will- "

"Lame, but it'll work for now." Ryan says in his ear, then thrusts into him again. Michael moans and his legs come up immediately around Ryan's waist, and Ryan knows he already hit just the right spot. He rocks his hips forward, and Michael literally loses his ability to breathe, head pressing back into the pillows. His neck is left exposed, and Ryan keeps pushing slowly into him as he leans down and sucks softly at the hollow of his collarbone.

Ryan himself is thisfuckingclose, but he feels like he really needs to win this. He reaches dow band wraps a hand around Michael's dick, followed by a rough gasp and Michael's legs squeezing tighter around him. Ryan hears Michael speaking in cut-off sentences and little half gasps and Ryan thrusts even deeper, rocking the bed. "Fuck, Ry, oh god please don't stop fuck- " and before Ryan knows it, Michael's coming between them, his ass clenching down around Ryan, and that's all it takes for Ryan to follow him a second later, groaning as he comes into Michael's body.

Ryan collapses onto Michael, and they lie there for a few minutes, getting their breathing under control and holding each other loosely, then Ryan hikes himself up onto his elbows and looks down at Michael.

"Shower." They agree.

After washing of the mutual grossness from both of their bodies, they trudge over to the bed. Michael yawns and flops down, and Ryan follows him, pulling Michael's head onto his chest.

"Mmflpsh…" Michael whines, reaching up and batting uselessly at Ryan's head.

"Don't be such a pussy. I kicked your ass in that one." Ryan tucks the sheet around them.

"Fine. But I think I'll get you next time." Michael flicks Ryan's ear and curls up into his side.

"Please. But Mike…"

"Mm?"

"That was worth the wait."

"Hell yeah."

 

They drift off to sleep together and wake up, both of them sick now, at three in the afternoon the next day.


End file.
